"Who is it?" Wei Chengjun instinctively stood up and looked towards the doorway.
"It's me, Old Yang." An aged voice came from outside.
This was the elderly man who had come to meet them when they first arrived on the island.
He appeared to be over seventy years old then, with white hair, a stooped back, and always had a stern expression.
The door creaked open.
Old Yang, wearing a black raincoat, stood at the doorway, sized up the people inside, and nodded.
